


Us Against The World

by jasondean



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasondean/pseuds/jasondean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica's life is flipped upside down when she finds her entire town, including her parents, has seemingly vanished into thin air. She and the Heathers normally make up a clique to be feared, but without weapons, food, or water, they find themselves defenseless against the danger looming over them. They are soon owing their lives to the mysterious JD who is somewhat of an expert at surviving in the new world. But is this stranger truly innocent with his motives and purpose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i tried to step out of my comfort-zone and write something a bit different. after the second chapter, i'm not really sure if i'll be continuing this, so please let me know if you enjoyed this and would like to see this fic continued!

                “Jesus, Veronica, can you walk any slower?”

                The voice of Heather Chandler snaps Veronica’s attention away from her phone screen. The girl gives a sigh as she realizes she’s trailed behind the group again. She stops, knowing she can’t simply pocket her device without trying the number once again. A few feet away, the Heathers look back at her, and Veronica tries desperately to ignore the queen bee’s relentless glare.

                It’s no secret that Heather C. is more than a bit harsh even with her friends, but in this case, Veronica knows she’s right. She quickly dials the number on her phone and puts the device up to her year, anxiety knotting in her stomach as she listens to the rings.

                Despite the annoyance in her voice, as soon as she looks up, Veronica can see the worry in Heather’s gaze. The sight continues to twist her insides and she swallows hard. If even the demon queen of high school is afraid, then they are _really_ screwed.

                Veronica curses loudly when she gets to voicemail, causing Heather McNamara to flinch at the sudden noise. For the past few hours, the girls have been uncharacteristically quiet as they travel through Sherwood, and although no one bothered to say anything about it, Veronica is well aware they are all constantly looking over their shoulders for danger.

                “Hey, Martha, it’s me, Veronica. Again. Please call me back, okay?” is the message she leaves, hanging up and sliding the iPhone 5S into her back pocket. At first her voicemails were rather lengthy and laced with concern, but after five missed calls, she keeps her messages short and to the point.

                “Get your ass moving, Veronica. I’m sure Dumptruck’s fine,” Heather Duke says, crossing her arms over her chest. With the stinging words, Heather Chandler gives her a silencing glare. “Sorry, Heather,” Duke says quietly, looking down at her shoes.

                “Let’s just start walking again, alright?” Veronica says, Duke’s rude remark not making much of an impression on her at all. They’re all hungry, tired, and scared. Duke just deals with it differently. While McNamara tries to hide her tears, insensitive words fly from Duke’s mouth. Pushing herself into a position of leadership seems to keep Chandler busy, but what about Veronica?

                _Repeatedly calling your best friend and stupidly wasting your phone’s battery life during the fucking zombie apocalypse._

                If the 911 line wasn’t being picked up, Veronica has no clue why she thinks contacting Martha is a possibility. A part of her wishes she were with her best friend now, but another part of her hopes Martha and her family have successfully made it to safety.

                The beginning of all this was surreal, to say the least. Veronica remembers the first report clearly, gathering around the living room TV with her parents and watching as an anchor relayed to them the details of a long-going experiment on creating new weapons for war. Instead of some new gun or an improved tank, scientists developed a virus that rendered the infected basically useless and are only lead by their instincts with the inability to communicate or to even recall memories. It was something devastating that sent shivers down Veronica’s spine.

                The top-secret tests to create a virus with less permanent effects was revealed to the public seven years after the initial beginning of the project. One of the subjects, a rat, had escaped from the lab. The rat wasn’t part of the placebo group; instead, it was infected with most recent rounds of the man-made virus.

                It was the first subject that was able to regain mobility. How something like this happened with such a watchful research team wasn’t ever questioned, but a rat carrying a dangerous disease that could possibly be infectious to humans caused a national panic. Veronica barely had time to be worried as she was focused on passing her finals and keeping a good rank with the Heathers, the only peace she was able to found with Martha.

                School was canceled after someone in Ohio began to show signs of the virus. Before coming completely vulnerable, the patient recalled being bitten by a rat. His wife was soon infected after drinking from a water bottle he’d had earlier in the day, and it was realized that the disease was passed through bodily fluid. And for some reason, those who had it wouldn’t give up trying to pass along the virus, because the next day before the wife was detained, two more people reported being bitten by a sluggish woman with a dazed expression.

                School was soon closed, and as the virus spread across the state and slowly leaked into neighboring states, citizens were confined to their homes.

                And of course, Veronica just _had_ to jump at the chance of a little teenage rebellion. Heather Chandler’s father was away on a business trip, and she didn’t have a mother, so she texted Veronica and the Heathers and invited them to a sleepover. The thrill of doing something you weren’t supposed to pulsed through Veronica until she fell asleep.

                The next morning she’d woken up next to her friends and the TV wasn’t working. They checked the neighbors’ houses, and nada. The Heathers followed Veronica to her home and her parents were gone, as well as the car in the driveway. Their confusion was interrupted when a woman Veronica’s recognized as her neighbor came into view, groaning and coming towards them. The knife had them screaming and running. They ran, and the rest of Sherwood’s residents seemed to have vanished into thin air.

                “We aren’t going to get anywhere if we keep disagreeing with each other,” Heather McNamara pipes up with her soft soprano voice. “…But I think you’re right, Ronnie, we should really get moving,” the girl says, looking down and shifting on her feet.

                Heather Chandler gives Veronica a questioning look as her brown eyes widen. Veronica tries to speak, but no words come to her, and she stands there with her gaping mouth, her gaze focused on a figure creeping out from the woods they had been walking along.

                “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Heather says, rolling her eyes at her friend’s fear-stricken state, and turns around to see what took Veronica’s tongue. She lets out a high-pitched scream as she sees it, a creature with deathly pale skin and clouded eyes, groaning as it moves forward.

                There’s no way they can outrun the thing. They’re too tired from traveling all day, and the fear Veronica showed has quickly paralyzed the other three girls, too. They all watch as it nears, hearts pounding in their ears.

                And they’re all watching as a gunshot rings in the air and the infected falls over. It’s head has been almost completely blown off, like the skin and muscles have been barely keeping it attached to the neck. Veronica feels bile rise in her throat as she watches blood continue to stain the once neatly-kept grass, the urge to turn and vomit almost overpowering as she forces herself to look back up.

                What previously had filled her with relief now turns to dread as the infected might not have been the worst of their problems. Half-concealed in the woods, he stands there, blood staining his trench coat and a revolver clenched in his right hand, his dark gaze on the group.

                Veronica feels the world spinning. _How is this happening to me?_ she wonders, her fearful gaze focused on the threatening stranger. Her eyes dart back down to the zombie, no, the person, his face is familiar, she’s had countless coffees from his small café, he’s someone real, he’s someone she knows, he’s…

                She doesn’t even feel herself hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

                Veronica comes to from the soft, unsure touch of someone’s hand, and the muffled sound of seemingly random consonants strung together. She shifts a bit, and the calloused hand is quickly off of her cheek, but the voice she heard doesn’t stop. It’s like someone stuffed pillows into her ear. Her hearing’s so fuzzy and the confusion is so intense she can’t open her eyes or bother to decipher the cryptic language flung at her.

                “Veronica?”

                Finally, she recognizes her name being called, the voice belonging to Heather McNamara. She opens her eyes to see she’s lying face up on the stranger’s lap. He’s looking down at her, his furrowed brow giving the impression of concentration.

                “S-Sorry,” Veronica mutters, getting up into a sitting position. She examines herself, finding grass stains on the fabric of her striped shirt and feeling a dull ache from her left side. Along with the aching, there’s a stinging on her arm where she can see scrape marks and little dots of blood from rocks digging into her skin.

                The stranger is now standing up next to the Heathers. He holds out his hand for her to take, but she stares at it suspiciously. Where’s that gun of his? It makes her nervous to think that this person neither the Heathers nor herself know has a weapon, aim, and reflexes that easily took out a full-grown adult.

                Well, if he wanted to murder them all, he could have while they were all distracted by Veronica’s fainting. That’s what she tells herself when she grabs onto his outstretched hand and he pulls her up to her feet.

                “How long was I out?” Veronica asks, wiping away the grass from her blouse and jeans. There’s still a wetness and green stain to her clothes, which isn’t the greatest thing in the entire world because Veronica only has two other changes of clothes, including her pajamas, which are booty shorts and a too-small t-shirt that definitely wouldn’t provide her any amount of protection against the elements, and would give her a steep disadvantage to any infected. So, technically, she’s now dirtied one of two pairs of outfits she will have to wear for who knows how long.

                “Just a minute or so,” the stranger replies. She’s surprised by how gravelly and rough his voice sounds coming from him.

                “It felt like forever,” McNamara says quietly. “Veronica, we were really worried!”

                “She just fainted, Heather, stop being so melodramatic,” Chandler says, stepping forward to give Veronica a look. Her eyes trail from her head to her toes, and she looks back at the other two Heathers, who are at a loss for words. “She’s fine,” Chandler confirms, then faces the newcomer. “Thanks for the help, Jesse James, but we’ve got to get going if we want to get to the next town before dark,” she says, gesturing for Veronica to follow her.

                “You’re not going to make it before sunset,” he points out. All three girls look to the sky to see the sun, although not dipping below the horizon, getting lower and lower in the sky.

                “We’ll see,” Chandler huffs stubbornly.

                “You don’t even know where you’re going, do you?” he asks, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. All four of them are quiet. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says after a pause of silence. “You guys are going to…” he trails off, looking to the red-clad blonde Heather. “You know what, no. You don’t need my help, isn’t that right?” he says tauntingly, turning his back on them and walking away.

                “God, just tell us what to do, asshole,” Chandler groans, hands on her hips.

                He turns around, but doesn’t walk back towards the group. “What’s the magic word, Blondie?”

                The air fills with tension as the two glare daggers at each other. Chandler’s face matches her clothes, her gaze sparkling with defiance. The three things that Chandler hates most in life are as follows: overalls (“Stop trying to make overalls trendy, Heather! It’s NOT WORKING!”), sleazy boys, and finally, being made a fool of.  

                “That’s what I thought.” He turns his back on the group again, sliding his hands into his pockets.

                “Please,” Chandler chokes out.

                “What’s that?”

                “Please help us get to the next town,” she repeats, more loudly.

                “There we go,” he says in a mocking tone. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

                Veronica finally steps between the two because it looks like Heather Chandler might tackle the stranger to the ground and the other two girls aren’t making any move to stop her. “I think we all need to cool off, alright?” she says to them both, but her words are mostly directed at Chandler, who rolls her eyes and takes a step back towards her posse.

                She turns to the trench-coat clad guy, looking him over. She still has no idea who he is and why he’s here, or why he even chose to save their asses and shoot the infected’s head off, but she feels drawn to him, and she’s not sure how much she likes it. He’s probably their only hope of survival, but she’s going to keep an eye on him, she tells herself as she pictures the pistol he had handled. “Were you ever going to tell us your name, or…?”

                “Jason Dean,” he introduces. “You can call me JD.”

                “JD,” Veronica repeats, nodding a bit. “Alright, JD, well, this is Heather, Heather, Heather, and I’m—”

                “Heather?”

                “No, I’m Veronica,” she says with an almost playful smile. “Heather Chandler,” she says, pointing to the still-fuming blonde, “Heather Duke,” she points to the girl in green watching them with narrowed eyes, “Heather McNamara,” finally, the short girl who’s trying to console Chandler. "And my name really is Veronica. Veronica Sawyer."

                “Ah,” he says, still looking lost.

                “You’ll get used to it,” she says and he shrugs.

                Veronica has the overwhelming urge to fling a barrage of questions at JD, but she knows there will be a better time and place to interrogate him. Meanwhile, they have to figure out how they’re going to spend the night, which is probably hours away, but she and the Heathers are fairly exhausted from their adventure. JD looks like he can take on another thousand miles, though there’s no telling where exactly he came from.

                Veronica reaches into her back pocket to check the time on her phone, and groans when she brings out the object to find the entire front screen is cracked. “Shit,” she says under her breath. _Mom and Dad are going to be so pissed when they find out,_ she thinks to herself. _If they find out,_ a little voice tells her, and she tries to shake it out of her head. There is no if, her parents are alive and well… She has to believe that.

                “Well, its 5:30,” she says. “I think we should get all our ducks in a row. Decide sleeping shifts, make a fire, take inventory, etcetera.”

                Duke sits down and puts the messenger bag that has been slung around her shoulder in her lap. She zips open a compartment and pulls out two blankets taken from Heather Chandler’s house. McNamara takes the first blanket and lays it out on the ground, perking up at the idea of a plan of action, and then rests the other folded blanket and sets it on the make-shift canvas.

                Soon, they’re all helping to lay out all the objects from the bag on the blanket, working in silence. After all the bag’s contents our out, Veronica gives JD an expectant look, and he retrieves the gun from his waistband and a knife from his left boot along with a three packs of cigarettes, a lighter, and a small roll of bandages from the pockets of his trench coat.

                Finally, everything is out in the open. There’s the second blanket, the pairs of clothes each girl brought, each girls’ phone, a large bottle of water, a folded piece of paper, and finally, everything that came from JD’s coat.

                “None of you thought to bring any food?” JD asks, mystified.

                “Sorry, we weren’t aware we were going to be thrown into the goddamn apocalypse,” Duke snaps.

                JD gives Duke a dangerous look, and she shuts her mouth and looks away from him.

                “…Alright, so, we at least have water, weapons, and fire,” JD says, passing his hand over each object as he names them. “And we can sleep on top of one blanket and under the other,” he says. “And of course, we have to watch for any infected people in shifts. There’s no antidote to the disease, so if you’re bit, you’re dead,” he says with little emotion. Veronica’s gaze flickers to the gun and her heart sinks.

                JD grabs the folded piece of paper. “Okay, so, maybe we can find a pencil and—” He’s unfolded the paper as he spoke, and his eyes narrow. “…What _is_ this?” he asks when he finds there is writing already on it.

                “Dear Audrey,” he reads. “Meet me behind the gym after school on Friday, I want to…” he trails off and looks up from the page and to the rest of the group.

                Veronica feels shame wash over her as she explains. “Well, uh, we... Me and the Heathers, we write notes sometimes to people in our school. To trick them into doing or thinking things so we can laugh about it and make jokes about it. I can forge handwriting, so, I guess I could be doing lots worse things,” she says, embarrassment coloring her face an unflattering shade of red.

                “It’s more tasteful than it sounds,” Duke jumps in.

                JD folds the piece of paper pack up and sets it down, looking disgusted. Every one of the girls looks guilty for the act they never thought much of before.

                He clears his throat before getting back to the topic at hand. “Anyway, it’s better to have two pairs of eyes out then one, so I think we should do shifts in twos.” No one disagrees. “I’ll take the first shift with McNamara,” he says. “The second shift will be Duke and Chandler, and then I’ll watch again with Veronica. Just wake up the next pair when you get tired, or after two and a half hours. Latter’s preferred, but no offense, you all kind of look like shit.”

                “Aren’t you charming,” Chandler says with biting sarcasm. JD flashes her a flirtatious smile and a wink and she rolls her eyes, looking at Duke like _Can you believe this guy?_

Then, repack everything except for JD’s items into the messenger bag quickly and attempt to make the sad excuse for a bed more comfortable, although they ultimately fail. They soon find a mix of tree bark and pine needles to start a fire with and they wait for the sun to set, conversation still absent from the odd group.

                 The sun sets, and JD lights the fire with his lighter while the Heathers and Veronica hold up a blanket for each other so they can change into their pajamas. JD teases them for trying to keep comfortable while the world might literally be ending, but they know he really wishes he wasn’t stuck with zero change of clothes.

                After everyone’s bed-ready, the flashlight is passed to JD and McNamara for the first shift. Veronica yawns as she slides under the covers, glad that she doesn’t have to stay up any longer. It’s more likely JD will be handling the first watch alone, because McNamara can barely stay awake even on her feet. If Veronica closes her eyes, she can pretend like she’s just camping with friends and everything related to the virus has all been a dream.

* * *

 

                Veronica doesn’t even remember falling asleep, so her first reaction when Duke shakes her awake is to punch her in the face. Her balled fist only gets so far before Duke darts back and misses the strike. “It’s just me, Veronica!” she says.

                “Oh… Sorry, Heather,” she says as she gets up to see JD waiting for her and Chandler already fast asleep. “G’night,” she says as Duke takes her place under the blanket.

                Veronica sits next to JD, his face illuminated by the crackling fire. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, taking out one for himself. “Can I have one?” Veronica asks, surprising herself. She doesn’t smoke, period. But her curiosity has got the best of her, and the stress of the day is still hitting her even if she’s had a full night of sleep.

                JD looks to her with a confused look on his face, like he’s forgotten she was there. He then fishes out another cigarette and hands it to her, putting his own between his lips and lighting it. He takes inhales, then removes the cigarette and exhales the smoke, his eyes closed. He then moves to light Veronica’s.

                She tries to mimic JD and all the teenagers she’s seen in movies and TV, but she isn’t prepared for the sensation and starts coughing immediately.

                JD starts laughing. “I don’t know why I wasted a cigarette on you. I knew you didn’t smoke.” Veronica looks away from him, as if she’s offended he doesn’t see her as badass enough to smoke _. Since when is smoking badass? Lung cancer isn’t badass!_ “Damn, you’re too cute,” JD snorts.

                Veronica’s second attempt goes much better and soon she’s exhaling the smoke easier. She still thinks it’s disgusting, but the calmness settling in her mind is enough to keep her going, and eventually JD’s laughter dies away and they sit in silence.

                “Thanks for corrupting me, Mister Dean,” she says.

                “Any time, Miss Sawyer,” he says with a smirk as he flicks some ash from his cigarette to the ground.

                “Sorry I thought you were going to murder me and my friends. You’re not so bad.”

                “Uh, what?”

                Veronica laughs. “Dude, you looked kinda scary, just appearing out of the woods in that wooshy trench coat. And you had a gun!”

                “Wooshy. Fantastic vocabulary,” he teases.

                “My point is that it was a little freaky,” Veronica says, inhaling more smoke and attempting to blow out rings and of course failing. “Damn, I always see kids doing that in movies...”

                “And now you are rest assured after seeing my handsome face, right?” JD asks.

                “Exactly,” Veronica says sarcastically.

                They reach the end of their cigarettes and stub them out on the metal of JD’s knife. “God, I just woke up and I already want to go back to bed,” Veronica complains, stretching out her arms and legs as she does so. “How can you do this twice?”

                JD shrugs, and they sit in silence again, watching the fire flicker. Veronica wonders if she’s done the right thing by letting herself trust JD. It’s not like he’s that much of a stranger, now. During the time where they were all resting, he revealed quite a bit about himself – for example, how his father enjoys destroying things, how his mother is dead, that he moves around a lot and he was only living in Sherwood for a week before everything went wrong, and his favorite food is a slushie. Which Veronica argued that slushies aren’t a food, they’re a drink.

                “Hey, can I ask you something stupid?”

                “Shoot,” JD says.

                “If this is really some kind of apocalypse, like, the world is about to end and now the rest of humanity will have to star in a corny dystopia YA novel, would you be my last kiss?”

                “I find it very respectable that you want to get some action before the world ends.”

                Veronica slaps him on the shoulder and he laughs.

                “Sure.”

                “Would you kiss me right now?”

                “I thought you were saving the best for last,” JD says.

                “As far as I’m concerned, this really is the end of the world,” Veronica says. “And I’ve never had the impulse to kiss a basically-stranger before, and I sorta want to act on it.”

                “That’s fair,” JD says and brings his hand to Veronica’s cheek, leaning in and kissing her. She knows it’s cliché, but all she’s thinking about is how surprisingly soft his lips are. He pulls away far too soon. “That enough for you?”

                “No.”

                “Good, because it wasn’t enough for me either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if i should add a third chapter, thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

                Veronica wakes up, her head resting on JD’s chest with his coat draped over her. When had she fallen asleep again…? She closes her eyes once more and focuses on listening to his heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest, not wanting to move at all. She remembers their lazy kisses before she’d fallen asleep, telling him between kisses how he tasted like cigarette smoke (Luckily, she didn’t start coughing or gagging.).

                “We should be keeping watch,” Veronica said, pulling away from him. “Like, there’s no way we’re going to spot danger like this. Literally anything could have just killed us in the past few minutes.”

                JD traced circles on her cheek with his thumb, giving her a shrug. “I’ve got my ears open,” he said, leaning to kiss her again, and of course, she gave in right away. She sat perched in his lap, and let her hands run over his chest. He looked scrawny, the coat leaving everything to the imagination, but she assumed he probably worked out.

                Veronica felt his hands on her hips sliding down under the waistband of her shorts and she pulled away, shooing his lingering hands. “Not tonight, bucko,” she said, giving him a teasing smirk and he stuck his tongue out her.

                They wound up on laying on the grass on their backs, watching the sky. “We’re going to die,” Veronica said in a very unconcerned tone.

                “Again, ears are open,” JD said. Even though he couldn’t see her expression, Veronica rolled her eyes.

                “I’m not like this, alright?” Veronica said. “It’s just the circumstances.” At Westerburg, JD would probably be the one of the outsiders that she and the Heathers would send Ram and Kurt to pummel. Or, they’d do the dirty work themselves with words instead of punches. And there would be no way she would start kissing him, or really, anyone else she didn’t really know.

                “The circumstances?”

                “Yes.”

                “Elaborate.”

                “I’m convinced that since the world is basically ending, to keep the human race alive my brain’s telling me to procreate with the most convenient human being,” Veronica deadpanned. “Even if he happens to be a freak in a trench coat.”

                “You want to fuck me?” JD asked, snickering.

                “I’m not opposed to the idea, I guess,” Veronica said, causing JD to laugh even harder. “God, shut up! I just told you, I’m not usually like this!”

                “Mhm, sure…”

                “I’m serious!”

                Veronica vaguely remembers kissing him again and him talking about his life back before his dad started moving him around every few weeks, sleepily telling her the details of his hometown in Texas. It worked to put her in a sense of ease, to help her forget what really was going on around them with the unknown of the virus and the infected’s capability, as well as the fact the Heathers could wake up and scold them any minute.

                She can feel JD playing with her hair, twirling a strand around his finger and then smoothing it down. She opens her eyes again and sees the fire’s out and the sun is drenching the world in a pink and blue sunrise. Veronica rolls off JD, and he gives a small objection. And she gets it, she wants to stay that way forever, but there’s more important things to do. Her stomach growls loudly as she sits up, looking down at JD who is still lying on his back.

                “You didn’t fall asleep, did you?” she asks, anxiety lacing her voice. That fuzzy, almost enchanted feeling JD gave her last night has worn off in the daylight when she begins to realize the danger she has put the Heathers and herself in.

                “I’m not stupid, Veronica,” he replies, getting up and retrieving his trench coat from its place on the ground, then pulls it on over his tank top.

                “Look, this isn’t…” she says as she approaches him, looking up to his face. _Damn him for being so hot._

“Practical, alright?” she says. “What happened on our watch, I mean. Someone could have walked up and put bullets in all our heads for how long you had your tongue in my mouth.”

                “You were fairly happy with that arrangement last night.”

                “Well, now I’ve realized how stupid we were being, so no more of it, alright?” she says, taking a fistful of his shirt and pulling him down to meet her in a deep kiss.

                “Dammit, woman,” he sighs, flattening out the material of his shirt, then running a hand through his hair.

                “Maybe we’ll have more of a chance when you get us to that town,” she says, although she isn’t very optimistic her interest in the mysterious JD will last long, even if her attraction _is_ mainly physical. He’s cute, sure, but cute boys haven’t kept her satisfied before. And they couldn’t save themselves from being crucified over group text after the inevitable breakup.

                Suddenly, JD pulls her close to him and pulls his gun from his waistband. Veronica feels herself shiver. Was that always there? There would have been very grave consequences if it’d gone off when they were making out. The only thing they have for a medical emergency is JD’s sad roll of bandages.

                JD squeezes the trigger and Veronica flinches as the gun explodes by her ears. She swallows hard, taking a deep breath before pulling away from JD to look at the damage he’s done.

                Her heart sinks. It’s a kid. Well, not a kid, really, but it seems to be a guy in his early twenties. How many people infected with the virus are crawling around in the woods, exactly?

                “What the fuck was that?” It’s Chandler’s voice as she gets up, looking at Veronica and JD. She walks over, the other two Heathers still blinking sleep away, and then she sees the dead man. Veronica watches as the blonde tilts her head. She wonders if Chandler is asking the same questions as herself – What was this man’s face before JD blew it off? Was it someone they knew? Does he have people who love him?

                Suddenly, the air around them erupts in an ear-piercing screech. “Jesus fucking Christ, Heather,” Duke says when the shrieking stops. McNamara looks horrified, all the color drained from her face. “Where was that when he shot down the first one?” Duke wonders.

                “I just wasn’t expecting it!” McNamara tries to explain, looking at the dead body, eyes wide. “Oh my God, ewewewewEW! Heather, please, can we go?!” she begs Chandler, spinning away from the body.

                “Oh, I don’t know, it’s up to JD,” Chandler says in a sugary sweet tone, a smile lighting her face in an innocent glow but her eyes giving him an intense stare. _She’s still upset over losing her throne,_ Veronica thinks, reevaluating how petty she is to really care so much about every single position of leadership. “He’s our _guide_ , right?”

                “We can go as soon as you’re all back in day clothes and everything’s packed up,” he says, choosing to not face Chandler’s challenge head-on, but Veronica can see the irritation in the way he moves and in his dark, narrowed eyes, his patience for the headstrong blonde dwindling every time she opens her mouth.

                They pack up the whole camp with ease, each taking a few sips from the water bottle before it goes in the messenger bag. As soon as everything’s packed up, a growling comes from McNamara’s stomach. “We can’t do anything for food?” she complains, holding a hand over her stomach.

                JD is silent as he digs his hands into his coat pockets. “Sorry, looks like I did have something on me,” he apologizes as he pulls out a 100 calorie snack pack and a goldfish pack. He opens both and splits the content between all five of them, then stuffs the trash in the messenger bag, which, for some reason, is something Veronica notices. Is it weird she finds it attractive that he isn’t willing to ruin the planet even if it’s giving them a big “fuck you” right now?

                “My house is out in the middle of nowhere,” JD reveals seemingly randomly as they start trekking.

                “I don’t think any of us really care about that right now,” McNamara says matter-of-factly, making Chandler, Duke, and Veronica burst into laughter at her occasionally revealed blunt nature. “Why are you laughing? It’s true, isn’t it?”

                “No, I mean, my house is literally out in the middle of nowhere. It’s stuck right on the edge of Sherwood,” he explains. “My dad bought some property a while ago and built this huge house on it, and that’s what we moved into. We should probably reach it by tonight unless we get lost or something,” he says.

                “I thought you said you moved around a lot,” Veronica says.

                “I do. I think he wanted us to finally settle down.”

                “Why?”

                “No clue.”

                “Sooo… Why were you going _towards_ Sherwood, exactly?” McNamara asks. “When you found us.”

                “I thought it was my best bet to find my dad. He… Was a little… The night before… I don’t know, you’d have to know him to get what I mean, it’s just I had to find him, and I thought he might’ve drove into town.”

                His explanation leaves more questions than answers, but no one else bothers pursuing the topic, since JD suddenly looks very troubled, like he might snap if any more questions are asked about why he was wandering through the outskirts of Sherwood. The fact he went out to walk the many miles from his house to the main part of town just to find his dad was impressive and confusing as hell to Veronica. What could have possibly been so desperate that JD was actually willing to go that far with so little on him? And from his answer, it was like he had no idea that the infected were suddenly increasing in number and no emergency, or phone lines in general were being picked up. So why wasn’t he surprised that first time they met?

                Veronica tries to puzzle out the questions in her head as they walk and walk, the chatter exchanged between JD and the Heathers background music to her thoughts. Maybe she was just paranoid, but she felt like something very odd was going on with JD.

                She soon forgot and began to participate in the random musing between the group as they discussed casual things from the most recent gossip at Westerburg (JD remained silent except to point out how dumb it all sounded to him.) to how Duke felt like she could tough another night out in the open because of how much _Survivor_ she watched.

                They rest only three times when every one of them are really complaining, and sometimes even then JD pushes them to keep on going, not at all eager to spend another night sleeping under the stars. But finally, at long last, they reach the house.

                Even from a distance, it’s evident the “house” JD told them about is more like a mansion, at least for what the girls grew up with. In the town of Sherwood, even those who were well off had houses that were fairly small and minimalist.

                “Your dad had this built?” Veronica asks, receiving a nod from JD as they approach the front door and he locates the spare key under the welcome mat. They walk into the house to find a modern, open-concept interior with quite literally nothing inside, besides the sparse amount of furniture and the large TV in the apparent living room.

                “This place gives me the creeps,” Chandler mutters. “It’s like it’s haunted.”

                “Screw _Survivor_ , we’ve got beds to sleep in!” McNamara says excitedly, rushing ahead of them.

                “Sorry to disappoint, but the only bedrooms with beds in them are my room and my dad’s,” JD apologizes.

                “Two beds to sleep in!” McNamara corrects herself.

                “And a couch and a floor,” Duke adds, sarcastically attempting to mimic McNamara’s cheery tone.

                JD fixes them up a pathetic dinner of Kraft mac and cheese and bread, but they’re all so hungry that no one really complains about his nonexistent culinary skills. There isn’t much arguing as they decide the sleeping situation; JD takes his own bed upstairs (“I know I’m the host and all, but as you are all very aware, you guys definitely owe me.”), Chandler takes his dad’s bed downstairs, Duke takes the couch in the living room, McNamara takes a couch that was revealed to be in the garage, and finally, Veronica takes one for the team and decides to opt for the floor of one of the guest bedrooms downstairs.

                Everyone’s very tired and the Heathers turn in for the night as soon as they get their temporary sleeping quarters, but Veronica still has some questions for JD. The way he spoke of his dad rubbed her the wrong way, and her curiosity causes her to follow him into the kitchen as he goes for a glass of water before bed.

                “What is it? Another stupid question?” JD asks without turning towards Veronica, filling up the glass he selected with water from the fridge.

                “Yeah. Something like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, i feel like this chapter was a little weird, but hopefully it should all be cleared up with the next update i have planned


	4. Chapter 4

                “What’s going on?”

                “I don’t understand the question,” JD says as he takes a sip of his water, looking at Veronica quizzically. The way he treats her, like nothing weird at all is going on with the world and he isn’t hiding anything, both infuriates her and charms her. He knows more than he’s letting on, she’s sure of it, but God if she just didn’t want to stay in this big house in the middle of nowhere with her friends (…maybe JD. He’s the best kisser Veronica’s ever met.), completely ignoring the outside world.

                Veronica shakes her head, trying to pull herself out of her thoughts before they turn into a full-blown fantasy. “Don’t do that. You know what I’m talking about. Who _are_ you?”

                “Jason Dean, attorney at law,” he says, brushing past her to leave the kitchen. _Rude,_ Veronica thinks, spinning around to keep pace with him. _What kind of person just leaves in the middle of a conversation?_

“Seriously, JD,” she says in a kinder tone, attempting to take a softer approach. “Do you know anything about what’s happening? You’re the only person we’ve seen since… All this began,” Veronica admits, finding her words to be genuine. “Just, I don’t understand. Any of it. Least of all why you’re part of the equation.”

                JD stops abruptly, causing Veronica to stumble and almost bump into him. He turns around, a certain seriousness casting a shadow over his face. Chills run down Veronica’s spine. It’s like the look he had on his face the first time they’d met, and when Chandler would push her luck with him. The thing was, he’s unreadable, and she suddenly feels vulnerable.

                “I don’t know, Veronica. I really don’t know,” he says, sounding defensive. “I know the town’s been evacuated, that’s it.”

                “Sherwood’s been evacuated…?”

                He shrugs. “Yeah, didn’t I mention it before? I got this whole alert on my TV. Just turn it on, I’m pretty sure it’s still there.”

                Veronica walks to the living room, the only room with a television, JD following her. He places his glass on a table sitting beside the couch. Duke stirs under a blanket, looking at them. “What do you guys want?” she asks with a yawn.

                “Just testing something,” Veronica says vaguely, moving to turn on the television. Sure enough, the screen flickers to life and shows a bold yellow message on a black background with a sound that sounds similar to a severe weather alert. On the bottom of the screen is sliding text that provides more information on where to evacuate and when along with where to find emergency supplies.

                Duke complains about the light and noise, and Veronica has had enough already. JD moves forward to turn off the TV, giving Veronica a “ _Told you so”_ look in the dim light. “Follow me,” he mouths, most likely unwilling to disturb Duke again, and they head back to the kitchen.

                “What the fuck?” Veronica says when they’re out of earshot.

                “I don’t get it, you guys didn’t get anything?”

                “No. Heather’s TV wasn’t working.”

                “Something probably got to the wires,” JD says.

                “But nothing got to _your_ wires,” she points out.

                “Yeah…”

                “Why didn’t you leave?”

                “I told you, I had to find my dad.” He exits the room again, frustrating Veronica. _Coward._

                “It’s nice you worry about your dad so much,” she says, following him still.

                “Oh, I wasn’t worried about him,” he says breezily.

                She’s silent as they cut through the living room again to go up the stairs. Still, she doesn’t speak, and they’re both silent until they are standing right outside JD’s room.

                “What do you want?” he asks, the slightest trace of irritation in his voice.

                “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, alright? I get why this is weird, all of it. From virus-infected people to helping out four bitchy, self-centered, annoying girls.”

                “Not the thing I’d expect to hear about your friends,” he muses.

                She sighs. “One bitchy, self-centered, annoying girl. I’m really fucking scared, alright? I’m sorry I’ve been kind of an ass. I don’t know where my parents or my best friend is, and you know what?”

                She doesn’t even wait for JD to prompt her to go on.

                “I don’t like the Heathers! They aren’t even my friends, okay? It’s like we’re coworkers and our job is being popular and shit. And now I feel like I have to protect them because we’re in the same shitty situation, but I honestly… I honestly don’t care that much,” she rambles, bringing a hand to her temple.

                “Ha. I get exactly what you mean,” JD says. “About feeling like you have to protect them. That’s the whole reason I’m helping…” He trails off at Veronica’s offended expression. “What, you really think I just stopped by for a pretty face?”

                “I guess not,” she says.

                “Fuck this. You’re right, this whole thing is too weird. The world’s ending, basically, huh?” She doesn’t know how to reply. “Can’t we celebrate that a little bit? Wait here a sec, Veronica.”

                She watches him disappear down the stairs and waits, sitting down against the wall and watching the moon pour over the hardwood floor from the slit of a window. After a bit of waiting, Veronica sits up straight to see JD walking back towards her with a champagne bottle and two red Solo cups in hand.

                “Come here,” he says as he pushes open the door to his bedroom, careful with his full hands. Veronica gets up and follows him, to find that his room has a huge, open window that allows even more moon light to shine through. It’s ridiculous how many stars are visible in the distance away from the town and how many shine through to JD’s bedroom.

                Besides the breathtaking window, his room is mostly bare. There’s a bed directly under the window and a closet, a nightstand, and lots of other standard bedroom furniture, but in terms of decoration, it’s much like the rest of the house. The only thing that she can tell marks this as JD’s own is a picture of a woman on a table up against the right of his room. From the distance, Veronica thinks she can make out a sun visor and sun glasses on her. Two other pictures are next to it on either side, the right one showing a young boy with ice cream all over his face and a melting cone in hand. The left one shows a couple on their wedding day.

                JD opens the bottle with a hiss and pours a hefty amount into the two cups before placing the bottle onto the table next to the pictures. He walks back to Veronica and gives her one of the cups, and she takes a peak at the bubbles. Her previous sips of the drink have been on New Year’s Eve out of a much more respectable glass.

                “To all that our shitty lives have given us,” he says, tapping Veronica’s cup with his own and taking a long sip of the alcohol. Veronica does the same, enjoying the sensation of bubbles sliding down her throat. As far as drinks go, she much prefers this to cheap beer at high school parties or the age old red wine one of the Heathers might sneak away from their parents.

                “My dad would kill me if I did this,” she comments, wandering over to the edge of his bed to take a look at the window, the cool breeze feeling pleasant against her face.

                “It’s the end of the world, right? No one finds out anything,” JD says, appearing beside Veronica and pulling her to him by hugging her waist. “It’s cool, right? I had to beg my dad to get this in the plans for this dumb house,” he says, sipping from his cup as he goes onto the bed to poke his head out the window.

                “I’ll take this place off your hands if you hate it so much,” she jokes as JD turns around and sits on the bed, his legs hanging off the side of the frame.

                “Oh, you don’t want it, darling. This house was going to be a prison, you trust me, alright?” he says, his face disappearing for a moment behind his cup as he tips the last of its contents into his mouth.

                “I have no idea what you mean,” Veronica admits, setting her own cup on the nightstand by his bed. “It seems great here. No one to bother you.”

                “Sometimes I want to be bothered, though, don’t you? It’s like that saying – if a tree falls when no one’s around, does it really make a sound? You need other people, even the shitty ones. Especially the shitty ones. That’s how you know you’re alive.”

                “That’s why this whole thing has been so scary,” she realizes. “It’s like we’re the last people on Earth.”

                “I want to be alive.”

                “You’re alive, JD,” she reminds him, wondering how much isolation this boy has been through, what he sacrifices for a cool image. At first, Veronica thought she couldn’t handle moving from place to place every six weeks because of how hard it would be to make friends, but now she wonders if you just give up looking for validation at some point.

                “Make me feel alive, Veronica.”

                She laughs at the cheesy line he delivers with such seriousness, and his hands are pulling her towards him. He’s standing up from the bed now, kissing her. He breaks it quickly, leaving their faces millimeters apart. “Oh, I forgot. Not practical.”

                “I think that was just for when we were supposed to be looking out for zombies, actually.”

                 She pushes him onto the bed and starts kissing him again, softly at first before JD switches their positions so he has her pinned down, initiating a string of longer, rougher kisses. She can feel his teeth graze over her bottom lip as his hands wander away from her wrists to tracing along the rest of her body, and she’s briefly frozen from the thought that _oh, wow, this is happening._

He pulls away and she sighs from the lessened pressure on her lips, feeling his lips against the soft skin of her neck, and she wants to be pissed off at him for leaving marks but the protest dies in her throat. He goes back to try and kiss her on her lips again but she start kissing at his jawline, her hands running over his chest and going up to pull away his heavy coat.

                She breaks into a fit of giggling when he sits back up to take the thing off himself.

                “What?” he asks, the coat on the floor and his shirt half-way off.

                “This is so dumb. The worlds ending and we’re still… We’re still... Human. Is this real? Oh my God,” she wheezes, taking a moment to catch her breath.

                 JD pulls off his t-shirt and it lands on the coat. Veronica sits up, giggling as he helps him with unbuttoning and rolling down his pants. “Why are they so tight? No one can pull off skinny jeans that tight,” she says, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she’s saying as she lets her hand move over the bulge in his boxers before helping him discard those, too, JD working on the buttons to her blouse.

                “This is one hell of a stress-reliever, JD.” He agrees.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont write half-asleep


End file.
